Build Bridges, Not Bombs

This year, there was an unusual addition to the crowds thronging Quaid-e-Azam’s Mazar on August 14. As the sun set, a small group (women of assorted ages, plus two visiting Nepali teachers) arrived with peace placards and candles. The Nepalis looked around, bemused at the hordes of men, families with children, vendors and flag sellers milling about, the women climbed onto the road divider opposite the Shahra-e-Quaideen gate. The young men standing around were curious: "Aunty, what’s this for?"

"We want peace between India and Pakistan."

The discussion continued through the din as the group handed out placards mounted on thin bamboo sticks and candles. More activists - men, women and children - arrived to join the vigil. Around them, rivers of human forms flowed towards the illuminated Mazar, or away from it. Silencer-less motorcycles roared between private vehicles packed with families and buses, their rooftops loaded with shouting, whistling, flag wavers. "Amazing enthusiasm," observed one of the Nepalis.

An activist produced a camera, and the young boys clamoured to be photographed. "Where will these pictures be printed?" asked one. There was no media present, except one participant who was there in a personal capacity. "So who are we doing this for?"

"For ourselves, for people here, and friends in India and around the world... Can’t we do something for ourselves?"

"Sure, why not? We want peace. But there’s no leadership, and the people don’t want it either. We’ll follow anyone who brings us peace."

"Who doesn’t want peace politicians, bureaucracy, army? Who gains from the tension? Aren’t we, you and me, the people also?"

Those who have until now been preaching hatred can suddenly become peace envoys, but ordinary people continue to face hurdles, with air and rail links still disrupted, and demand for visas far outstripping supply. Visas, once granted, are for just three cities, not for the country! Travelers still have to report to police on arrival and departure. When this condition is waived, as for the delegates to the recent South Asia Free Media Association meeting in Islamabad, visitors are still kept under such strict surveillance that there is
panic when one person (Mani Shankar Ayer this time!) goes ’missing’ for a couple of days.

The Karachi vigil brought together private citizens, responding to a call from the West Bengal chapter of the Pakistan-India People’s Forum for Peace and Democracy (PIPFPD). It was just one manifestation of the desire for an end to tensions. Similar events were held in India Delhi, Ahmadabad, Calcutta, Pune, Bombay, while the Wagah-Atari border crossing demonstration drew an unprecedented number of people on both sides, as Pakistani parliamentarians and minority representatives joined Indians in celebrating the two independence days together.

Veteran journalist Kuldeep Nayar has been lighting candles at the border on Aug 14 for ten years; this was the first time that Pakistan allowed similar activity from this side. Last year, Pakistani border officials attacked peace activists with lathis and abuses, not even sparing figures of international stature like Asma Jahangir, Hina Jillani and Dr Mubashir Hasan. This time, it was a changed atmosphere. Grp Capt. (r.) Cecil Chowdhry, a 1965 war hero turned peace activist, wrote to the AsiaPeace email list: "Government officials were very cooperative in allowing all of us to see off our delegation right up to the gate of no man’s land." The India-Pakistan rivalry is reflected in expatriate communities who often meet ’the other’ for the first time abroad. But many are working to break the barriers of distrust and bigotry. They include citizens "from all walks of life- physicians, students, academicians, social workers, shopkeepers and journalists, men and women, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians and others who celebrate their unity in
diversity," says a press release from the new USA-based Develop in Peace (DiP) campaign. DiP pulls together many "common people turned campaigners", including groups like Friends of South Asia, Action group of Physicians of South Asia, and the Alliance for a Secular and Democratic South Asia.

This year, they organized activities in the USA, UK and Canada to jointly celebrate their countries’ independence. In the USA, citizens participated from Houston, Madison, San Francisco, Boston, Charlotte, St Louis, Ann Arbor, Minneapolis, Madison, Atlanta, and Palo Alto. National anthems were jointly sung, flags hoisted, and meetings held, with poetry, music and food. These activities culminate today, August 17, in a conference call from Houston connecting all the participating cities.

The campaign rejects "hatred, violence and distrust in the name of religion, caste, regional, national or any other identities", and denounces the arms race; "demanding development, not destruction, with the poorest of the poor in sight; asking governments and politicians to build bridges, not bombs; and provide security through food, not propaganda."

They are aiming for thousands of signatures for their online petition http://www.petitiononline.com/DIP81415/petition.html), to be submitted to policy makers on September 21, the UN International Day of Peace. The campaign will continue to the January 2004 Islamabad Indo-Pak summit and SAARC meeting "and beyond".

But even if our politicians continue the peace process that has begun, it will take a long time, and much sustained interaction before the wall of suspicion and hatred is knocked down.

At the Karachi vigil, the peace vigil is joined by a couple of youngsters, one of them waving a giant flag mounted on a six-foot pole. "We want peace," he said.

"And friendship with India?"

"Are you crazy? Would I be here if I wanted dosti? The Indians always deceive us," he replied, barely saving his flag from being snatched up by youngster the crowded roof of a bus lumbering by. "Oye, stopthat!"

"They say that we deceive them, like with Kargil."

"Well. Maybe you are right. Maybe they are right. I suppose they are people like us," he replied, waving his flag at another bus rolling by, its roof crammed with revelers.

This time, he wasn’t able to save his flag. "OYE!!!" he yelled, brandishing the bereft flag-pole.

"Yaar, just leave it," shrugged his friend.

They smiled and waved before disappearing into the crowd.